One Kiss
by Valexian rose
Summary: There are strong people, and there are weak people. Eric only ever thought that she was strong, and that a person of a rank one status would be good for her. But it only ever takes a fight to bring out true colors, and Tris was forced to realize that not everything is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

Simply put, he and I would often embrace each other, heart to heart and without words understand each other's feelings, taking in their breath, their smell, only touch would give away our thoughts. In detail, he would drape his arms under mine, and hold me around my waist while he pressed his nose and lips into my hair, inhale, and then tell me just how beautiful I was. He would dig his fingers into my skin as he nuzzled his nose along my neck and jaw, he would smile when my hands moved into his soft mop of dark brown hair, playing with the locks. Then he would tell me that he loved me, looking into my eyes before he kissed me. He would tell me this after I came home from work, right before we made dinner together, and I would love every bit of it.

One night, however, he and I had argued until our voices were screaming and our bones were rattling, hearts aching and pounding in our chests, until we were cracking at our foundations; tearing down our walls that we built together and shooting each other with hurtful words and hate as fuel. We threw things and wrestled, throwing kicks and punches and spitting words that came from the very depths of what made a terrible person so terrible, we hurt each other until our voices cracked and trembled and tears fell, until our throats were dry and hoarse and eventually, we could speak no more.

That night I furiously glared at him as if he were threatening to kill my family, and without a word I stormed into our room, grabbed my worn black duffel bag, ripped it open and threw whatever clothes I thought I might need into it. I was vaguely aware of him on the couch, and I ran to grab whatever hygienic objects in our bathroom that were mine. I only stopped in my rage once, looking down upon his blank face, and right then I made the decision to get out.

I left him there for two nights without interaction, seeking to stay in my friends house. When I knocked in the way I was accustomed, a very tired looking and annoyed Christina opened the door. For the first time since I've known her, she didn't ask questions about the duffel bag, or about my messy hair, or about the bruises that had begun to surface on my pale skin. Instead of demanding to know who caused my flushed red face and the tears that had rolled down my cheeks, she pulled me inside with the gentlest of hands. Instead she introduced me to her couch, a warm cup of sleepy time tea and honey, and popped in a movie she and I had seen too many times.

She did her best to hold herself back, resisting her easy reading stare and direct questions. I was thankful. I did notice a tall and lean blonde figure standing in a bedroom doorway, looking very tired, and that caused me to wonder why Christina hadn't told me she moved in with Will. We'd been friends for two years and I couldn't understand why she'd neglected me. Those thoughts were quickly chased away when she rose to her feet and began explaining why I was there, and it was somewhere around 3 a.m. that it was a settled agreement; that I'd stay there for the time being, though they hadn't a clue what got me there.

I struggled to sleep in the cold lonely dark of their apartment due to the thoughts in my mind, fighting with the words he and I had exchanged, working my brain with scalding steam against doubts of us and of myself. Screaming in the dark reaches of my thoughts and memories, over the idea of officially leaving him. That maybe the fight was his fault as it was the first one of such degree that we had, but my mind was too selfless to believe that he might've done something wrong and the blame shifted onto me by my traitorous brain. I wondered if I wasn't right for him, that I wasn't good enough for him, that he and I were too different or that he wanted something else that no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't give.

It was thoughts like those that made me grow to dislike myself further, and more tears to have surfaced. I fell into a pit of self loathing, and the effects were immediate. As on the second day of my stay Christina had said something to me, around lunch time when I refused to eat even the food she brought up for me. I told her how I felt, and why, and I cried in her arms as she listened. I told her what happened and how clueless I felt, how alone and vulnerable I felt I was becoming. After some careful thought she told me that I might need to take a break, away from Tobias; the thought of that terrified me to no end. He was all I ever had, he was my strength, my barrier, my comfort, and my safety where I could find none. I told her how important he was, and how he had supposedly made me feel. Leaving out the doubt of his real intentions, wonderment of his feelings toward me and if he really wanted all of that. I agreed nevertheless.

Despite myself, and hungry, I wavered and wobbled weakly down the dark corridors of the Dauntless that I loved so. I traveled to the mess hall to which I was sure I would find Tobias. It was supper time now, and I had gone through every scenario in my insecure mind as to what would happen. To my great surprise, because I doubted he'd come down so fast, I found him sitting at our usual table across from Zeke and Uriah. Shauna was next to him and Marlene was just sitting down. I approached cautiously, like one would a hungry and ticked lion. And though he did not look at me, I told him that I was taking a break from him, thinking that a few more days to complete the week was enough. He grunted and offered a nod but didn't smile, didn't say anything, so I left.

It was the next day that I was sitting in my office typing furiously into my computer keyboard, that a knock came to my door. Saving the document I was on and closing it, I called my approval of intrusion. Much to my surprise, Eric entered my workspace cool and leisurely. Still taught and sharp like he was on a string, or something was wedged up his- needless to say, he was very pressed, and his posture gave off an air of superiority. Technically we were of the same level, but his few years of experience gave him a one up to me, and he had no qualms of boasting such stature. Which is why his presence shocked me so. For a few minutes it seemed he stood in front of my desk, tall and imposing with his dark stare and many piercings, until he spoke to me directly, "Stiff," And still I believed this all to be some joke, that he was attempting to tell the air of what he felt, as opposed to speaking to me. Then he looked directly at me, lips frowning and one eyebrow raised, "Who, me?" I asked him, eyes wide as I felt the air cooling the commonly found gloss over my eyes. He snorted, "Yes you, am I talking to that plant?" He gestured dramatically to my flowering fern in the corner. I straightened up, "What did you need, Sir?"

"Sir?" He smirked, a snake slithering over his face before his thin pink lips parted, tugging on his piercing. The thought struck me that he would look rather handsome had he removed at least some of the piercings, but then I was aware that he was playing fun over me. Sharply, more so than I intended I responded, "What did you need?" My eyes caught how he licked his lips quickly before saying, "You have an assignment, to Candor, you're to supervise and direct a small squad of Dauntless soldiers, protecting the interests, assets, and any personal targets that would be related to Jack Kang for two weeks,"

"Two weeks?" I repeated with incredulity,

"You will be right by Kang's side the whole time, as his personal guard," Eric continued, as he stared at me the entire time, which made me fidget in my seat. I nodded to him, in hopes that he would stop with his brooding stares, to which he turned on heel and walked to my office door. He made one comment as he left, "See you later, Stiff." Later that day I spoke with Christina and told her what I was to do, and asked her if she could keep an eye on Tobias and my things for the time that I would be gone. Having her agree was no problem, and it was early the next morning that I left the Dauntless compound, heading for the glass scale of black and white for two weeks.

 **A few things about this new story, it is a triple shot, the second chapter will be much longer and the last will be moderate. Tell me what you think C:**


	2. Chapter 2

I wasn't much for drinking, as discovered the night of the Rank release at the end of Initiation. I'm a lightweight without any cell in me that likes the processed sugar, or liquor. Eric isn't one for talking, more so grimacing or glaring, brooding more than what a normal person's mind would allow. Yet he sits next to me, and I next to him, at a pub in the Pit. It's loud enough within the carved and styled walls to distract me from my foreboding thoughts. This is the first hour I have been in Dauntless compound in a two week purge period. For which, I am grateful for taking. Turns out Dauntless was right, Max and a few other leaders were notified by Erudite of stranger still Factionless movement and activities. Dauntless proposed a defense, whereas Erudite like always wanted to watch, and wait. Observe, plot, construct any string of data they could, and calculate the probability of Factionless doing or attempting to do something drastic or dangerous.

The probability was high enough for both factions to agree on sending myself and a few other top ranked Dauntless members to Candor, where it was blatantly obvious that no one there would defend themselves if their lives depended on it, which they did. Factionless decided to coordinate multiple attacks on Candor, it's people, and Jack Kang. His family's life was inherently threatened, as was his own at the same time. Thankfully, I was able to get the notification of incoming forces before they secured an even dead zone around us, and sent soldiers to protect the family of Jack Kang. His wife and son remained unharmed in a violent gunfight that lasted nearly 40 minutes, and only two soldiers were harmed.

My job was also compromised. I both love and detest the glass structure of most of Candor's buildings due to neighboring Erudite, but most of all I am thankful for the steel framework that jutted and provided other cover aside from a black stained desk that had been punctured with too many bullets to count. A group of 7 men and women charged in an organized fashion through the front doors of Candor HQ, killing 12 civilians and 18 workers, such as lawyers and detectives, all working at the time on an investigative city plan; ironically to protect people from going through such radical attacks as that one. They lost their lives, but the groups that stormed the building were either terminated or captured. I shot and mortally injured 6 radical Factionless.

I stayed by Kang for an extra 4 days, as per my orders given to me by Eric through a holographic call, to ensure the safety and security of Jack Kang, and all of Candor. On the third day my soldiers and I held a celebratory ceremony for all those that were lost, and I sent home most of those who were injured enough that they were unable to do the task at hand properly. My fourth day, I said my goodbyes, and was hugged at my legs by Kang's son, who I learned was the youngest of three, and only 10. I returned early the next morning to Dauntless when I had permission, and spent most of my day debriefing the leaders of Dauntless and the representatives from Erudite everything that I had seen, heard, said, and experienced. Giving them the details that came with violence that helped predict when an enemy was going to attack, and how.

It was around 11 at night that they let me go, instructing me to take a break from my active duty for a while. Eric, had been seemingly happy to take my free time and turn it into drinking, together. Which brings me to why we're sitting here, tossing back expensive bronze liquor from a tiny little glass. No one told me it burns. So far I've counted 4, and I'm already starting to feel the thick hazy buzz clouding my brain, and Eric must see it on my face, or the alcohol is getting to him too, because he eagerly pours another for me and himself with a grin on his face. I cringed as the liquid touched my lips, gritting my teeth together before I regained the nerve to tilt my head back. 5 down, the rest of the bottle to go with Eric. He laughs, my face burning with embarrassment as I shook my head, crinkling my nose at the intricate glass bottle.

I found I liked his laugh, and wishing that he did it more often, I cherished the moment and laughed with him. We were probably too buzzed to care that the pub was closing in an hour, and I had lost count of how many shots we took, but by the empty gin bottle before us I assumed it was quite a number. My memory tipped as I slid off my stool, and over to Eric who was grinning ear to ear at me. I must have done something to warrant that look on his face, and wanted to know what it was, so I decided it was a good a place as any to ask him while straddling his lap. I asked him in a loose drabble of almost coherent words why he always looked at me like that when I caught him. He merely looked at me with those foggy steel eyes of his, droopy when I struggled to squirm into a comfortable position against him. Then I found it, and I suppose he did too, as he swung his arms loosely around my waist, forgetting about the question and wanting the answer.

We left, or more so stumbled from the closed pub in a dead hour of the morning. Lurching and slipping we laughed until we came upon the elevator to the leaders apartments, to which Eric grinned at me for. We slowly got to the door, though I don't recall how, as I hadn't a clue where Eric lived. My brain was hazy by the time I registered cushioned fabric under me, and a weight on top of me. And my hands were moving more aimlessly than to really grasp what was happening, and then I was just, out.

* * *

Eric, I found, was a snuggler, though I had no idea how we ended up on partially in his bed, in his appartment. My mind whirled and the weight of the world and my thoughts pressed and throbbed and squeezed my skull until I felt like screaming, but I realized that doing so would wake up Eric, and only increase the pain that deemed me nauseous. My ears rung, picking up the quiet and not so quiet members of Dauntless passing by the apartment, and the stairwell link to the pit. And my chest tingled with premeditated ticklish sensations every time Eric brothe, huffing either through his nose or past his lips. And though at the time my brain felt as if it wanted nothing more than to explode, a small smile stretched my chapped lips as Eric moved and wrapped his arms around my waist further.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt like this, at peace, happy, not even when- Tobias. My eyes opened wide and I stared at the ceiling as if it could help me get to him. My boyfriend, whom I'd missed terribly as the guilt of our fight and my decision of space gnawed slowly at my insides. He didn't know I was back yet, and part of me instantly lit up at the prospect that even though I hadn't actually been unfaithful, I did spend the night with another man, and slept in his bed, with him. My mind flew, racing faster than sound and quaking when I realized that he might be worried about me, that he might think I've run away from him, I didn't tell him I had an assignment in Candor, that I was part of the celebration of success that took place last night. Then it hit me in the face that Christina ought to be worried for me as well. I didn't return to her as I told her I would, in fact, she was probably raising hell in the expert way she usually did, demanding to know my whereabouts.

Eric moved, tangling his legs further with mine, and his thick, black, soft blankets. My head tilted back, sinking comfortably into the mattress beneath us. I looked around me, searching for an easy way to sit up without dying, and my eyes had landed on a fluffy looking pillow just half an arm's reach away. Quickly but quietly I snatched it and placed it under my throbbing head. Jack hammers, I decided, were in my brain, swinging and splintering pound by pound struggling to get out of me. I wanted them out of me, but that would require moving excessively. I sighed, closing my eyes and gently willing my pain to leave me, letting my body do something else to distract me, because even though I wanted it to leave sooner as opposed to later by work of medicine, I doubted Eric would feel much better than I.

My hands slid over the soft yet grainy fabric of Eric's black t that he wore, fingers skimming over the gentle valleys and slightly tense mounds of muscle in his back and shoulders. Lightly pressing on each vertebrae of his spine as I neared his shoulders. I felt him shudder delightfully on me, and heard a strange sound fall from his throat that sounded too groggy and rough to mean his awakening. My nails clipped and scraped up the back of his neck, ascending further into the soft, short follicles that were his blonde messy hair. A smile fell onto my lips when I opened my eyes to see his lips had curled into a sleepy pleased smile, and had parted as he continued to sleep. My palm gently cupped the cap of his skull, fingers running through the normally gelled longer hair that seemed to grow curly as it became less artificial. I grew warm when he tightened his grip around me as I played with his hair.

When I tugged lightly on the golden curls, he shifted quickly and sucked in a breath, I froze-my eyes growing wide. He mumbled something low to me, rumbling in his chest and vibrating my own, "You shouldn't play with people's hair without permission first," at this, for some reason I grinned, "You object?"

"Did I say that?" He said with a cocky smirk, not bothering to open those eyes I wanted to see. Still I obeyed him and continued to playfully attempt to braid down the center locks of his head, though I hadn't a hair tie for him. I smiled even wider when he removed his arms from under me to my sides, by my shoulders. His calloused fingers skimmed at first and caressed more bravely the bare skin of my arms and shoulders, the sensation rivaling the pleasure of a light massage. Part of me knew that I shouldn't have let him touch me in such a way, though that hardly called for fairness as I was touching him in such an intimate way. I slowly pulled to a halt in my ministrations and he shifted, pushing himself up onto his forearms over me, staring at me with eyes that seemingly for once, held no malice. They were white, like the foam salt water of breaking waves crashing and stretching onto bronzed sand; breath takingly beautiful and unusual. They were often times like the most well kept knives I'd ever seen, dangerous, sharp, used for easily inflicted and quick lesions of impersonal hurt. Or sometimes he meant to hurt people, but in this morning I saw the stars as I gazed into his steely orbs. And I fleetingly realized that I wanted to do it forever.

My lips moved and my voice rung out, cheeks blooming roses at his sudden proximity, "I should probably go," and just like that the air between us once again grew uncomfortable, tight, thick and tense. His eyes darkened into the malicious cold cut steel I had known too well since the beginning of initiation, and he got off of me. He fled the room much like a ram ready to butt another off a mountain side. I sat up and instantly regret it, wincing and hissing as my hand flew to my head, blood rushed making my sight grow dark and my breath to fall short. The pounding continued in full, along with the thoughts of Tobias. The thoughts that followed his name in a freight train was enough to shove me into motivation, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up to the best of my abilities. Granted, I had to brace against the wall for a few moments at each step. Much to my amazement and a spark of pride I made it out of his room, into the living room, where I found Eric rummaging noisily through his fridge.

For a moment I stood there in the middle of his living room, staring at my boots by his door, while I dug my toes into the soft bought carpet under his couch and coffee table. He seemed to have found what he was looking for, because he made a huff and placed multiple items on the counter. Of which I noticed were eggs, lettuce, scallions, cheese, milk, and various other things. Then he slammed the fridge door shut, and turned, his eyes landing on me and a frown beginning to form on his face. Something inside me twisted at that expression directed at me, though I had done nothing to warrant it and that was simply how Eric acted, he had a way of making everything seem so personal despite his opposing demeanor.

He huffed at me and continued to do what he was doing, my fingers curled into fists though I knew this was a simple dismissal I growled, snapping at him through my stormy thundering objective mind, "I'll see you later," Eric straightened and spun, a wicked fury on his face. Suddenly and rather fluidly he maneuvered to me in record time, getting in my face, "What makes you think you can talk to me like that?" He barked and I paled, my cheeks turning blood red as my skin became porcelain. Quickly my brain came up with reasons why I could, and reasons why I was stupid, it even bothered to repeat the question Christina asked me the first day we arrived in Dauntless.

I looked away from his angry eyes, at his furrowed brows and nearly bared teeth. I slowly shook my head, struggling to silence the uproar in my mind, to push down into a dark soundproof cloak my migraine and pain. My lips moved and a sound came to my ears that I registered as my voice, "Nothing," I responded, realizing that even though I was submissive in my physical form, I was defiant in my voice, a hidden rage so easily revealed. With that notion of silence from him that followed afterwards, I retrieved my boots and swiftly said, "Thank's for letting me stay with you, last night, and thank you," I paused, boldly looking up at him, chin up, "For occupying my night," I know that I meant the words, and by the change on his face, he knew it too, but being myself I didn't let the interaction continue.

* * *

My booted feet slapped against the carved black obsidian-esk floor, the sound working in sync with the throbbing in my skull, allowing me the distraction to organize my thoughts. First I would go to my apartment, and hopefully talk with Tobias, who would by now miss me as much as I miss him, and we could forgive each other. It was a foolish idea, to think it would be that easy but I was hopeful. My apartment was one level below Eric's as I hadn't met the full requirements of my leadership training yet. Briskly I walked up to the door, aware of my lack of keys, but still had my bypassing card, and that would work as a substitute. When I entered our apartment, I took in the crooked couch, the dishes piled in the sink, the trash left out on the countertops and coffee table. The mugs, and as I took a few steps closer I noticed something wrong.

I picked up the soft grey and black mug, finding remnants of fresh coffee, and much to my surprise, hot pink on the edge, in the form of _lips_. I bristled setting it back down quickly and walking away from it, my eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together, my instincts told me to search the bedroom. Next I was met with a messy bed, and when I walked up to it, found not only hair that wasn't mine on my pillow, but a pair of sandals under my side that could only belong to another girl because they sure weren't mine. My hair stood up on the back of my neck and searing rage began to eat away at my fingertips. I narrowed my eyes at the adjar bathroom door and strode over to it, fists clenched I slowly pushed it open. There it was, the feminine products that only a cake faced girl would wear, and the very lipstick that I found on the mug placed recklessly but innocently by the sink along with several other items that Christina informed me of. My headache forgotten I yelled, "Oh my God!" and swung for whatever was in my reach.

The mirror cracked and shattered and I'm sure my bones popped but I wasn't done, I was seething, glaring death into the mirror that the girl used to make herself look good. This was _my_ apartment, and she was fooling around with _my_ man. Animalistic sounds in the form of snarls and screeches fell from my lungs as I clutched my chest, I wanted to hurt her. Wanted to hurt _him_ for allowing it. I panted, wheezing almost as my mind raced through all the possibilities that this wasn't real, or it was a prank, or he bought the shoes, but then, I stopped. My body ceasing the shivering and my breath halting in my throat. A girly laugh spread down the hall and pairs of uneven footsteps followed until they slid and stopped at the apartment door.

A deadly calm smoothed over my body, and I straightened, now registering the dull pain in my hand but not doing anything for it, because as I stepped into the livingroom, the pass beeped clear and the door swung open. _She_ was incredibly blonde, golden hair, pink and black everything, her hair even had pink highlights and her lips were the color of bubble gum. Already I hated her as she clung to Tobias like a needy child, squealing and giggling and patting his chest like he needed more fuel to his ego. They didn't see me yet, and decided to kiss, hard and sloppily in the doorway, her noises filling my ears as I watched him reach down to her ass.

Then he shut the door, pushing her against the wall and lifting her, I glared fury, but I wanted her to notice me. Because _I_ was his _girlfriend_ , not the other woman. He kissed her neck, and I'm sure he bit too because he did to me, and then it happened. And I fought a smile. She screamed at the top of her lungs, eyes flying wide to reveal crystal blue under all that eyeshadow and mascara, she shoved Tobias away and fell back against the wall pointing at me while she emptied her voice. I crossed my arms, putting on a blank face but keeping the rage in my eyes, Tobias turned to me, and froze.

I would have laughed at the prospect of the mighty Four being afraid of me, but I wanted to hurt him too much for me to laugh. He stood and gaped at me, his blue eyes wide and shocked. I let a spiteful smirk ease onto my face and it made him tense, "You should be screaming, because I'm about to be your worst nightmare," I told her darkly, and she started crying. I looked to Tobias, growling, "And you, should be ashamed of yourself, cheating? What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded of him,

"You left me," He said, I laughed,

"I left you, oh yeah, play the victim Four-No, I was out saving Candor from being over run you selfish bastard," He paled, "What, was I not good enough for you? Working my ass off to keep you happy? I can't believe you," I scoff, not bothering to look at him. Instead I shake my head in fury, "Go ahead, continue to try and have sex with her,"

"She's not-"

"Oh yeah? Then who's makeup is that Four?" I ask loudly, "You seemed really familiar with this one,"

"She's the only one Tris,"

"Oh I'm sure, because you're just full of the truth, aren't you?!" I yell,

"You think I play with girls and then move on to the next one?!"

"Yes! You fucker, you do! How long?! How long have you been screwing her in our bed!?" I scream at him, and I don't know why, but my face is hot, and wet. My chest heaves as I catch my breath, the girl stopped screaming and looked at me like I was clueless, which in that moment, I felt I really was. Quietly Tobias answered me, and I almost missed it, but I was waiting to hear what my heart already knew, "A month and 2 weeks,"

"Why?" I demanded, still angry but slipping.

"You changed Tris!" he claimed, "You refused to respect and listen to me, you didn't want what I wanted, we're too different!"

"Oh right, like I ever lost respect for you! You were my mentor, my best friend, I told you _everything_! I listened all right, I listened as you confessed you loved me when I came home from work but I guess that was all fake _wasn't it_!? I listened to your problems and I helped you with them, and no! I don't want what you want if you think I'll be okay with you fucking some whore!" I screamed the last part, clenching my fists so hard my knuckles popped and my nails made my palms sting. Tobias looked down, and the girl glared at me pouting her lips, and I continued, "You know what, fuck you Four, go to hell. I hope you're happy with this prostitute who dares to look at me like _I'm_ the other woman, the home wrecker. I'm sure she'll pretty up every time you want her to unlike me, so sorry for that," I say sarcastically, "Oh and she'll have _all your_ interests Four, even become the perfect fuck buddy and refer to the fucking arrangement as 'we', and she'll respect you a whole lot when you decide what you want in the bedroom," I scoffed to them both. Disgusted with myself for being worried about him, about us. Upset with myself that I didn't see it sooner, so I shook my head, "Get out of my place, bitch," I ordered venomously, but she did not move. I fumed, "Did you not hear me? Get out!" I screamed at her and watched her scramble for the door and run.

It closed with a soft click and all that was left were pieces of broken sharp glass that I didn't want to bother touching. Tobias didn't move, but I did, I let tears silently run down my cheeks as I stormed past him into our room. My fingers fumbled for whatever belongings I didn't take to Christina's and I threw them into a satchel, and a suitcase. Tobias stood in the doorway, and stared at me, unable to respond let alone comprehend how I could end everything just like that. When I was finished, and had emptied my closet and all my dresser drawers, Tobias spoke, "I'm sorry," He said, in a quiet voice. I stopped, whirling on him and snapping like a whip, "No, if you were really sorry, you wouldn't have cheated in the first place,"

"So you're just ending everything? Leaving me just like that?"

"Why? You think that somehow you're going to guilt trip me and play the victim and get me to somehow understand that you cheated on me out of love? Yes I'm fucking leaving you, just, like, that." I said to him and shoved past him, taking my things with me. My hand touched the door before I stopped and said to him, "The apartment is yours, but my furniture will be removed within the next week. I hope you have a good life, and that you made the right choice, because I _never_ want to see you again. Do you understand?" He nodded to me once, and I stared at the man I thought loved me, who I thought sincerely wanted to have me forever. And then I left.

 **So, this site won't let me upload more than a little over 4,000 words, which freakin sucks. So the follow up to this will be posted in a few minutes after this one. Hopefully it leaves you in some suspense c;**


	3. Chapter 3

Christina was livid, but also relieved and happy to see me at her doorstep. She pulled me into a hug faster than I could pull a trigger and she started crying, whispering her frustration at me for not telling her I was back sooner, and for scaring her. Then she threatened me and told me never to do it again. I only nodded, and reveled in the love my friend had for me. Her tears and comforting hugs left in a rush when she realized something was wrong, and she took me by the shoulders in the doorway and demanded to know what happened.

I spilled everything, shuddering and wheezing as tears began to fall as I described the reason for our initial fight in the first place, that I had refused to be around him if he was going to act like some horny teenager, that I couldn't focus and I was tired of giving in, which made him get furious at me, thinking I didn't love him and that I was just pretending to pass initiation when we both knew neither was true, yet we still said the words. She knew the next part, but not of everything that specifically happened in Candor, not what the Factionless had done and planned to continue doing, as she was just a shop keeper. I told her how Eric of all people occupied my night and I struggled to tell her of our endeavors while drunker than drunk because my memory was still fuzzy when it came to that night.

By then she'd taken me inside and sat me on the couch, held my hands and looked into my eyes as I spilled the truth to her that I had felt something more than distaste for Eric, that I didn't hate him. I told her even as she narrowed her eyes, that I spent the night with him. She was silent when I told her we woke up to each other in a way I don't believe anyone in Dauntless has had the privilege to do. That I ruined to moment he made, which made my mocha skinned friend scoff and roll her eyes at me.

My voice grew quieter, and the tears returned one by one when I went through my experience with Four, with the other woman. How upset I had gotten, how I cursed for the first time in my life, because never before had I been so distraught, so angry. When I told her of my decision to leave him and move out, she smiled fondly and proud at me. And for once, after I emptied all that I held in, she didn't ask any questions, simply hugged me close until my cries stopped, and my lungs were sore and fuzzy.

She explained to me her and Will's schedule for work, and that it was okay for me to stay there as long as I didn't throw any parties, picked up after myself, and didn't bring anyone back here. She laughed after the last one and kissed my cheek in the friendly way we had grown accustomed to doing whenever we met, and she wished me luck in whatever came next.

What came next? I didn't know. Neither did my brain, or my body. I was at an extreme loss for the first time since choosing day, when my father disowned me and my mother became a rebel. I rubbed my palms over my dirty jeans, the ones I had worn for three days now. I crinkled my nose at them, and at my shirt, and my hair. I hadn't showered since I got back, and now, because no one was home for a few hours, seemed like a good a time as any. I peeled my clothes off as I walked into the guest bathroom, and I was suddenly grateful for Christina and Will living together. It meant they had the opportunity to upgrade their square footage space, and had an extra room installed with a full bathroom. Part of me wondered why they had all this space when it was just the two of them, but I dismissed the thought when I stood bare skinned in front of the mirror.

My body was covered in green and yellow, spanning up my legs and cradled my ribs. This is the cost of being in danger, and I was suddenly very thankful for body armor, as it did save my life. I took my hair from the tie it was in, and ran my fingers through the knots and grime while the water warmed. A strange thing to watch in the mirror, the motion of your own body, of things you grew so used to doing that you didn't realize how strange they actually were. I cracked a smile, weightlifting from my shoulders as I expelled any foul thoughts from my mind, I was just taking a nice warm shower, washing my hair, getting clean finally in three days.

I was done in 45 minutes, a strange feeling, having the pads of my fingers and toes wrinkled like dried cranberries. I'd never taken such a long shower before, but I loved the feeling of it. A massage had pulverized my muscles and skin and soothed away the sore bruises. My scalp was scrubbed clean and my hair smelt like, I don't know what, just very good. For some reason I felt guilty for taking such a long and warm shower, not only because it was in someone else's home, but because in Abnegation, you were given a bath, of lukewarm water for a max of 5 minutes, because any further and you'd be dubbed as selfish.

The white towel around me was incredibly soft, and I wondered if it was intended, or if my towels were that much less extravagant. Then I realized that I should talk to one of the leaders or the real estate agency and see about one of my own apartments, and perhaps grab one of my friends to go shopping with me. I'm thinking royal purple, as it is one of the colors I found I liked the most, for the trim of the black of my new apartment, maybe paint some. I smiled at the thought. Quickly I got dressed, and because I didn't have anything to do today work wise, I chose to don something more stylish, a backless black t with crossed straps from my lower back to my neck and shoulders, the hem of the shirt falling to my upper thighs, the sleeves hugging just above my elbow. My pants went up just below my midsection, tight black jeans with holes spliced up the thighs. Then the pair of shoes that Christina had convinced me to buy, simple black flats that had never been worn.

My hair dried down between my shoulders as I made my way to the Pit. I knew where the Real estate center was, where a woman or a man sat at the front desk and had you sign papers and fill them out, where they cheerfully accepted them and sent an agent down to show you various places that were available. They met me with curious stares when I got there, and when they read my name they congratulated me on my successful mission in Candor. I was over it. I just wanted to have everything go back to normal, whatever that was now. They handed me multiple papers and a pen and asked me for my identification and we went through the drill again.

* * *

Will got back somewhere around 7, while I was wiping down the counters and cleaning the dishes. He watched me with a tired yet still curious expression, confused as to why I was there, cleaning his house. So after setting his things down and hanging his coat he decided to ask me, "What are you doing here?"

"Christina didn't tell you?" I asked him, concentrating on rinsing the plates and cups in scalding hot water. I assumed he shook his head at me as he walked around to help me, "I haven't seen her today," he told me, and I'd admit that it was strange being in the same quarters as him, as he and I weren't the closest of friends, we got along and picked on each other from time to time. This was the first time in a few years that we talked to each other aside from formal and timid "hellos". I watched and allowed him to help me wash his plates and cups, drying them with a clean rag before setting them onto the rack, "I can leave if you want me to Will," I told him, "You'd have to explain to your girlfriend why you kicked me out though," he laughed,

"Wouldn't dream of such a thing, I should really be asking if everything is okay. Your doctor told me you were in perfect condition aside from bruises and a few cuts, your ribs had a little break down due to some of the bullet impacts. Still, I was worried,"

"I'm okay, thanks," I said to him, smiling before beginning, "I came back to a situation that I didn't know how to handle, and wasn't prepared for, so I left. Christina told me it was okay to lay low here for a while, I assumed she told you right away,"

"Mind telling me what's up?"

"I broke up with Four," I said bluntly, Will stopped, staring at me with those big celery green eyes of his, blond lashes brushing his brow bone. He shook his head at me, "Why?"

"He cheated on me," I mumbled as if it were nothing, that it happened to me every day. I struggled to suck in the emotional turmoil that threatened to pour from me, that pulled my insecurities to light and shoved them back in my face, my brain coming up with ways as to how it was entirely my fault that all of that had happened, that I was in the wrong, that I was a terrible person. Suddenly arms wrapped around my shoulders, and my face was pressed against Will's sculpted but soft chest. He sighed through his nose and said comforting things to me, he apologized for Four, and described various ways of assault on sight. He made me laugh at least.

* * *

Two days into my stay with Christina I had planned to go shopping with her in a furniture and essentials store the next day. It was precisely five minutes after the talk that my mobile device rang, I answered hastily, receiving news that the estate agent was more than ready to provide a tour of some of the finest apartments Dauntless had. I left to meet up with them, and as promised was given a very formal show of some of Dauntless's free apartments and flats. I settled on the 6th floor, one on Eric's leadership level, because according to Dauntless I was considered a leader in training publically, therefore I was able to access any means within the more senior leaders disposal. I was thrilled at the announcement, but also confused, as I had been told nearly half a year ago that I wouldn't qualify for such a thing until my entitlement ceremony, and coronation.

The flat I settled on was a two bedroom, one and a half bath, equipped with two closets in the master bedroom, a washer and dryer down the hall from the guest bed, a large living room, and a nice adjoining kitchen. It was a bit big for just me, especially looking so bare and empty, which brought me to ask my agent her policy on painting. To much to my delight was allowed without penalty. The rent wasn't bad, but it wasn't cheap either. But I was happy regardless to sign the rental agreements and go through various background checks.

It was mine, I finally had a place to relax in without the weight of the world following me through the door. Before she left, the agent informed me that the movers I had requested were ready and waiting in the Pit, and had scanned a certain code into my key card that allowed me to enter, lock, and unlock my place. I grinned, and got the movers air right away, now that I had a place I was too thrilled that things worked out. Now to buy some paint. And a bed.

Thankfully Tobias wasn't in the apartment, and my things weren't destroyed. I didn't have much that I needed to take, just my dresser, nightstand and my desk. All of which now sat without any damage in the middle of my new apartment. I thanked the helpers and paid them for their help, and briskly left my thoughts of everything that had happened over the last few days out the window. I didn't want any trouble, and I was glad to be rid of it, I just wanted to be alone for now, left to whatever I had to do, without the distraction of drama.

My thoughts were halted when I ran into Eric on the stairs, he going up and I going down. He stared at me with a half glare and half bored look, which rivaled his next choice of words to me, "What are you doing here?"

"What were _you_ doing?" I asked right back, descending the last few steps to stand before him. As he had paused in place to gawk at me, he tensed up and crossed his arms the closer I got, and soon the distance between us was only a few feet, and one step. He gave in to my question, "Four raised hell in the control room, I came to find you,"

"What about?" I asked, ignoring the fact that I didn't live there anymore, and him not knowing. Which was strange, that he didn't know, because he was my superior and it was part of his job to verify anything that went by him, including the status and location of any vital Dauntless members. Including me. Still, he cocked his head in a way that would appear violent to most, but I knew enough in my three years in Dauntless working with him that the gesture was a half assed shrug. He spoke in the quick clipped manner that he did everyone, "A meltdown, he nearly destroyed most of our software. Injured a few people, threw a few things. Not exactly good when one of our best coders starts beating the crap out of people claiming it's his girl friend's fault,"

"My fault?" I gaped, furrowing my brows, "Okay, first of all, it wasn't my fault, I wasn't the one throwing punches and trying to break stuff, and second of all, how could I have caused the episode when I wasn't even there?" Eric stared at me with half lidded eyes, and a frown on his lips. He didn't look particularly disappointed, but he didn't look incredibly interested, if I was anyone else I would've assumed he wasn't listening to me. He shifted, opening his mouth to say something to me, before he noticed my strange working attire, of cargo pants and a loose t shirt, "What are you doing?"

"The only way I'd tell you that is if you join me," I told him,

"Where," he demanded, not liking the prospect of not getting what he wanted right away. I smirked at his unease, as it was not everyday that Eric was openly cautious of something, still I didn't answer him, but did speak, "I'd change out of your presentable clothes into something you don't mind getting dirty," he narrowed his eyes at me, frowning even more if that was possible. I merely smiled at him, I had all day for his brooding and decision making. Suddenly he made up his mind and scowled at me, curiosity got the best of him as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me up the stairs by two a time to his apartment door. He pulled me inside with him and sat me roughly on his couch as he disappeared into his room. He came out a few seconds later in training shorts and a tank top. I gave him a thumbs up though I doubted he needed encouragement on something he'd already made his mind up on. We left his flat and were strolling through the Pit, getting more looks than what I would have liked, until we came up upon the store I was looking for. Paint.

I walked in, letting Eric follow me with a confused look on his face, still frowning though. A man approached us, and asked if I needed anything specific, I told him I was looking for a royal dark purple for sure, and that I'd browse to see if I wanted something else. He nodded cheerfully and retreated into an aisle at the back of the store and started a machine, grabbing a rather large paint can. I was picking out little slips of dark and light colored paper when Eric came up behind me, nearly touching me as he spoke in my ear, "You're painting something Stiff?"

"Yep," I affirmed, holding back a smile at the way his breath tickled my neck. I could almost feel him smile when he looked over my shoulder and pressed his chest to my back, he was messing with me in the middle of a store, though practically void of people, in an intimate way. I could slap him. He reached out, speaking as he fingered a grey selection of color, "That new tenant across the hall from me wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"Congratulations, you got first prize!" I exclaimed to him, stepping away from his teasing fingers and warm body, "You get to help me paint my walls!" he froze and furrowed his brow when I turned back to look at him. I grinned and tilted my head in a question, asking him to follow me. He did, looking out to the door as he walked over to me in the brush section. Instead of looking at me directly he picked up a hand brush and played with the bristles as he spoke, "So why'd you move out from Four? He kick you out?"

"No," I snorted, "Cheated on me, I left him," Eric paused, turning and looking at me before he said without humor, "So Stiff's do that too?"

"Do what?"

"Have sex and cheat," I choked on the air I was breathing in, he was incredibly blunt. I turned and grabbed a few brushes I knew we'd use and chose not to answer him, picking out pans to hold the paint for the rollers. The whole shop smelled of fresh cut wood and lead, and something else and it distracted me from recalling the whole event that I didn't want to think about. Eric put two and two together, "No wonder he freaked out,"

"Why do you say that?" I asked without real interest, I just wanted to talk and be rid of the silence between us. Eric walked over to me and mumbled so low I almost didn't hear him over the machine, "I'd lose my shit too if my girlfriend of three years left me,"

"He was the one that cheated, should have thought of that before he went and did it," I told him simply, though it was tearin me up inside. Eric smirked at me and brushed a fan brush against my cheek, as if he were wiping something off, or dusting me. I swatted him away playfully and set out for the counter. The man who grabbed my paint for me was already waiting with a smile, I set everything down and pointed out one more color, an aluminum grey color I thought would add a nice trim to some of the walls. He got it for me and Eric didn't say anything else, I paid.

We left and dumped everything in my new apartment, Eric was kind enough to pop open the purple can for me and inhale the fumes, I laughed at him as I grabbed a few waters for us. He told me to wait as he got an idea, he left as I began to pour the paint into the tray, I would paint the bedroom back wall purple, and trim the bathroom the same. Then I would do the main wall in the living room, the one that would hold a T.V. Eric returned with a small folded silver ladder that was self explanatory, and a few rolls of blue masking tape. I explained my idea quickly to him as he told me we used the tape for details. The floor was wood, so we didn't have to worry about dripping paint. We started, me on the ladder and he standing next to me rolling paint onto the wall. It was a beautiful dark lavender color, a mixture of blue, purple, and grey. I fell in love with it.

I was done with the top and working my way down when I felt something wet flick onto my side and cheek. I froze before looking at Eric accusingly who no doubt flicked paint on me. He worked innocently and diligently as I climbed down the ladder. I re dipped my brush and walked over to join him as I didn't need the ladder anymore, switching arms not only because it was easier to paint him, but because my other threatened to cry. I noticed the coat went on thickly and easily, that we wouldn't have to go over it with another layer. I smiled and moved my arm, sliding my brush down his arm and painting one side with a streak of purple. He pulled away from me slowly and looked over his arm, a mad grin coming onto his face before he chuckled.

He walked away and set his brush down and I reveled in my victory. Or assumed victory. He splattered paint on me with one dipped hand before he slapped my ass, I yelped and jumped away from him, dropping my brush and glaring at him. I started laughing at the grin on his face however, noticing that both hands had been dipped in the purple. I laughed when I realized there'd be a purple handprint on my left side of my pants forever, Eric laughed at me laughing and I realized that I wanted more of this. More of this carefree, of this fun, of just being, us. I didn't know what made him cold, or angry, or what put that sheet of ice and barbed wire around his heart, but I made the decision right then and there to always try to make him happy, to smile.

I rejoined him in painting and told him that he'd one, to which he smiled about for the rest of the day. We finished the silver or darker grey trim that split around the room, and made up what little wall there was in the kitchen. Eric and I were covered in paint, both from accidents and from messing with each other. I thanked him and offered for him to eat dinner with me, but he declined, explaining that he'd need to scrub the paint from his clothes for the next few hours. As thanks, and partly friendly I kissed his cheek before he left, to which he stared at me for, and rewarded me with a slight smile. Part of me regrets closing the door and saying goodbye, but as I look back on it, I think it left him in suspense.

* * *

Christina was still upset about Four, and had expressed it in full the next day when we were shopping together. She told me how much she'd like to dig her nails into his- yeah let's not go there. Long story short she rambled on and on about how much she hated him and the other woman who still wasn't given a name other than "whore," to whom he was still apparently with. When I told her of his reported meltdown in the control room she laughed and congratulated me on leaving him.

She also nagged at me about some other guys who had shown great interest in me, I declined as politely as I could, telling her that I wanted some time and space to myself. She made fun of me, excitedly informing me that I was becoming a strong and independant woman. Inside I knew what the real reason was. I was waiting, for something and for someone I found had made me feel alive and safe, yet made me feel more hurt than I knew possible, who scared me so badly I wanted to cry thinking of it. I wanted someone that made me think as I felt. Part of me knew who it was but refused to share this valuable information with the rest of my brain and my body. I also knew that most of the guy's Christina sought to hook me up with were posers, and players, and were only interested in my title as opposed to me.

The rest of the shopping trip went as such, her ranting and firing questions at me about the perfect guy, asking everything that came to her mind that she didn't as when I broke down in her arms. It was refreshing, to have my normalcy back, my friend, and it made me want to hug her. Still we simply picked out several black and purple towels and blankets. A black rug with grey and white fibres in it, a black couch. We even settled on buying a soft mattress and everything that came with it. She told me that she'd be the one to pay for any dining ware of my choice because I was paying for everything else and she felt bad, telling me to think of it as an unbirthday present.

We set up my apartment with what we bought and could carry, as the other things took time as it took special orders. My towel rack was installed, my sink was cleaned and my cabinets were fixed up on all of them. The plates were stored in newly cleaned cupboards and silverware in nice silently shutting drawers, the dish towels were all white, whereas the regular towels were a light lavender purple color. The sheets for my bed were the same silver and light purple color. The black L shaped couch arrived earlier than expected along with the rug, and we set those up accordingly. It was around 7 that Christina told me she had to go home, but we stayed a few minutes to marvel at how much we got done today. Everything was really coming together.

 **This is part two of the last chapter, and I had planned for this to be a triple shot, but the word limit prevented that. It'll be slightly longer! Yay! Tell me what you think c: She Knows will be the next update, or it is planned to be.**


	4. Chapter 4

Amity was exactly as I expected it, smiles and politeness, giggles and squeals and songs, music I'd never heard in my life seemed to fill every square inch of the Faction. The market was busy, members wandered from stall to stall talking and laughing, gesturing with their hands excitedly, children ran about between the wooden carved legs of each drape holder. Which of course was what made me look up at the structure of each building. Breathtaking. Colors were everywhere, maddening hues of bright pink or orange danced through the crowds of green or yellow, the banners that fell beautifully down the glass and carved wood walls held a tree, a bronze tint to the roots.

A few children had ran into me, then used my legs as a pole to play rosy with, running from their friends. Every woman there either had hair long enough to sit on constantly and a flower crown, or braided hair with flowers woven into the tendrils. Flowers was the "thing", I learned the hard way when a house of children we visited attacked me, not literally of course, and wove my hair up into a braid and a bun atop my head, and a crown of white and purple clovers. I told them one or the other, they didn't listen. Eric laughed.

I hadn't a clue why he agreed to join me on this trip to Amity, probably because he had nothing better to do, which I was confused to either feel flattered that I was his first choice when he was bored, or if he wanted to mess with me and exploit my trust in him. I wasn't technically reluctant to let him join me, his company had been rather pleasant, to me. We were heading to Johanna's office, a barn, Eric had told me, with horses. I didn't tell him I'd never actually seen horses before, but he didn't seem to like them.

Amity was much louder than I had anticipated at first, perhaps louder than the Pit on a Friday. Laughter filled my ears and my head turned to a group of women speaking with a stall owner, he sold paint. My lips twitched at the memory of a few weeks ago, when Eric had helped me paint my completed apartment, I'm sure if I brought it up he'd look at me like it never happened, with that bored expression he always had, save for the hint of annoyance. Though in the past few days, he hadn't looked at me like I was a nuisance like everyone else, and I didn't know why. Eric suddenly stopped, making me bump into his back, my eyes widened as I took a few steps back, he shot me a look, my eyebrows raised. It couldn't have been because I bumped into him, could it? He opened his mouth before closing it again, then he gestured for me to follow him again. What was that about? He walked faster, probably to make sure I was paying attention this time, I had to, as his strides were much longer and faster than mine, I was in a half light jog, half speed walk phase.

* * *

Eric frowned, coming to a halt much slower this time beside me, his fists clenched. I stared at him for a moment, wondering what the holdup was as I came to a stop beside him. My eyes widened with awe, and my lips parted slightly when I took in the intricate hand carved wooden designs in the barn doors. They were heavy, and dark. I couldn't help but run my fingers along the chipped away brick red paint, fingerprints catching the texture of unfinished old paint chipped from even older wood. A homely feeling sprouted then in my soul, and thoughts sprung to my mind. If Amity hadn't my respect before I arrived, this barn would have changed my mind. Years and years and even more piled onto this place, the struggles hung from the sturdy rafters, the project itself still lived and breathed off the walls. The stalls were hand carved and well kept, aside from some dents from the strong metal shoed hooves from the steeds.

This nearly ancient building swayed with the wind, it creaked and groaned, cracked and splintered around me. The floorboards above my head even moved, pressed down and squealed under the weight of a person. Eric lead me past the huffing multi colored animals, and I tried to keep my fear and awe under my skin, sparing only a few glances when one of them whinnied. The stairs must have been redone, because they were finely polished and hand carved like the roots and branches of a tree sprouting from the middle of the barn. The Amity manifesto was carved in a spiral up or down the stairs, the words stared me in the face as I skimmed my fingers against the well carved trunk of this tree, then my eyes widened as it touched a piece of metal, a screw. Was this once a real tree?

Eric snapped me to attention when I caught his gaze, he was watching me, his eyes slightly narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed, still a frown on his face. I ripped my fingers from the brilliant trunk and looked to my right. The entire wall was mounted with numerous herbs and flowers, all of them in recycled parts from years of each Factions waste, something stirred in me and I grew uneasy, guilty but glad at the same time. That Amity had to do this to keep from using new resources, and that they recycled all of this. The opposite wall faced eastward, and was made up entirely of glass. I stepped closer to it curiously, and hovered my hand against the surface, air. There were microscopic holes in the glass to allow air flow. A feat of engineering and science, no wonder Amity was known for its agricultural accomplishments, it was amazing.

Movement drew my attention, a woman, with long dark hair and tanned skin sat behind a reclaimed wood desk, her fingers laced, palms together and her forearms rested in front of her. She had a scar that stretched up from the corner of her left eyebrow into her hairline, a soft face, a few wrinkles, a kind smile, and dark eyes that reflected the light. I knew her face like the back of my hand, as I had read countless papers signed in her name, or reports that had anything vaguely to do with her, the leader of Amity, or representative as she called herself; Johanna Reyes.

She looked pleased until Eric stepped towards her desk, she straightened and leaned back, tilted her head and looked up at his towering figure before her desk. Wasn't she scared? I was when he approached me for the first time in my new office, then a thought hit me, she must have been used to his imposing visits. He took a seat without asking and crossed his arms, then reclined mockingly in his chair and I almost felt ashamed to have had him there with me, but I didn't. Instead I took a few steps forward, bowed my head and closed my fist over my chest, and waited to hear some acknowledgement. She chuckled, "New leader are you? Stand up straight dear," I did as I was told.

Johanna rose from her seat and moved fluidly, like a willow tree that danced with the breeze, and stood before me. She was only a few inches taller than me, and up close I could tell how much older than me she was, "Tris, you have seven fears and were ranked first in your entire EPIC,"

"E-P-I-C?" I questioned,

"Experimental Process Initiate Class," She smiled kindly, though her eyes narrowed, "The first class to take on the new style of Dauntless," I tensed, and though she hadn't said the words menacingly, I understood the malice behind them, and exactly why Eric behaved the way he did there. I supposed it was foolish of me to believe that trip to be entirely milk and cookies, Amity was the Faction of peace, after all. She grinned with closed lips at me and took my shoulder, "Please, sit," I did as I was told and sat up straight, while I fought the frown that threatened to paint my lips. Eric looked rather relaxed next to me, almost amused without showing it, allowing himself to be so. If the situation didn't depend on my leadership indoctrination and eventual entitlement I was sure he'd blow the situation off with a cruel smirk. Johanna settled, "Now, where to begin, on congratulations to you first, Tris, for Candor."

"Thanks."

"So, Eric, Tris, let's talk about the Factionless, and your suspicions."

* * *

The ride back to Dauntless was silent. As silent as anything could be when we were on a train traveling nearly 70 miles per hour. Eric didn't want to talk, not to me, he had grumbled and muttered obscene things to himself the entire trek back from Amity to the tracks. I caught a few curses and Johanna's name before I put him to mute in my mind, if he didn't want to talk about it, it wouldn't be polite to listen in. We were five minutes into the train ride, we both sat up against the wall, and stared out the open cart. I watched the trees woosh and shudder by, the leaves rip off in the speed of the train and the wind that followed, watched the branches bend and quiver, wave goodbye as the final cart left the area as the tracks curved. The sky was blue, and the air was warm with a gentle breeze, I wouldn't lie to anyone if they asked if I missed the surface.

Eric grew silent at the fifteen minute mark, we still had twenty to go until we reached the outskirts of Dauntless. I cast my glance to him, and took in his tightly crossed arms over his chest and his tilted head, his eyes were closed. If he hadn't an irritated look on his face, I would have guessed him to be sleeping. Johanna was suspected of treason, suspected of harboring radical Factionless and traitors from any other place. She was good at keeping secrets, and good at keeping her mouth shut whilst saying the right thing to the right people. She couldn't understand the need for regular Dauntless guard rounds in her faction, on the farms, in the market, around the neighborhoods, couldn't understand that the devastation I went through in Candor could and most likely would happen again, to anyone. We were all targets, and it was Dauntless's job, my job, to get rid of those who dared to point the barrel of a gun to said people.

I thought that was why Eric got so upset, and had hopped that it was the true reason, that he wasn't the unpleasant person everyone, including other leaders, called him. He was the same as the rest of us, human, with humanity chock full of emotions, concerns, thoughts, wants, hates, fears, everything. Or maybe that was wishful thinking of me, it was bad of me to hope again as that was what made Tobias such a shock to me. I looked away from Eric and down into my lap, letting my fingertips rest against the smoothed and cool steel of the floor. It calmed me, made me shiver and push away the thoughts of the past. It'd been nearly a month since I'd seen Tobias, there was no reason to think about him, and what he did.

My eyes closed and I mimicked Eric, my mind slowly shut away the world to just my thoughts. Black shadowed and crawled around the edges of the back of my eyelids, a woozy feeling rushed along my skin as the dark spots popped up like an old movie film eating away at itself, destroying what was there, eating away the light. Sleep, had not been on my agenda for a few days, and I was lucky if I had three hours under my belt. It wasn't healthy, but I had work to do, and no one to occupy me from it. Warm encased the side of my head and a hand grabbed my upper left arm. My eyes opened with a stinging protest, Eric was awake, and had decided to lay me down in his lap. The look on his face told me nothing, but made me question everything. Could he tell I was tired? Why was he bothering? I wasn't his actual responsibility, he didn't have to tag along to Amity if he knew it would've resulted in disappointment. Did he want that to happen or did he get a stroke of heart that seemed to claw it's way out of him only around me? Was he worried about me? Could he worry about me? That would have to mean I meant something to him, did I? Or was I just an asset he didn't want to scramble like white noise on a screen? I stopped my questioning when his warmth encased me, lulling me with the sway of the train. He had softer brawn than what his cold and calculated expression lead most to believe.

* * *

I woke to a dark room and warmth that invaded my skin. I drifted between the sleep state of awareness and stirred alertness. I didn't get up right then, because I was for once so comfortable in the bed I was intruding. A strong smell rubbed against my nose and face, aftershave, a near mint musk, like cold fresh air, and something else. My mind concluded that I was in a man's bed, to which he did manly things in. I wanted to be disgusted, but I was still half asleep. My fingers rubbed the soft fabric beneath me, the grains and threads teasing the pads of my fingertips. My bare feet were for once warm, and tucked under the comforter that weighed down on my body, but was still remarkably light. I checked myself physically, to be relieved that I was still fully clothed, save for my socks and combat boots, which sat on the floor next to the mirrored closet I was facing. I breathed in through my slightly parted dry lips, closed my eyes slowly and let drowsiness caress my limbs again, let it creep up my spine and to my skull, and once again I slowly welcomed the gentle black that welcomed me on the train. The train.

I sat up quickly, my gaze turned to the closed door of the bedroom which held back the strong golden light that peaked under the door, it crawled and shifted the black of the room into a light purple against the stained floorboards. My sight returned to me slowly, and I was soon able to pick out the shape of a dresser, two side tables, an adjoining bathroom. I was in Eric's room, again. Had be brought me there? I pulled the covers off my small body reluctantly and swung my feet over the edge of the bed, and slowly rose to my feet. The floor was warm at least. I made the bed before I retrieved my boots, which had the socks I was wearing stuffed in them, neatly. Then I opened the door, eyes squinted and my body grimaced at the sudden change of light that I was unused to.

After a few moments my eyes settled on Eric, who stood in the kitchen writing something down, and talked with someone over the phone. It was a quiet conversation, well, he was speaking softly, the person on the other end of the line might as well have been yelling at him. I smirked and silently slid in a stool that was placed on the other side of the raised counter. I propped up my jaw with the palm of my hand and watched as the muscles in his back tensed and relaxed, watched his shoulders move each time he filled his lungs with air and banished it. Watched how the bones under his skin shaped his body and then remolded it to suit a better position. The kinesiology behind his body was astounding. I took in his attire and noticed quickly how it had changed. He wore a dark grey tank top, and black sweatpants, his feet were bare. He had recently returned from training.

He sighed and mumbled something into the phone, then stood straight again from his reclined position of leaning against the counter behind him, his back to me. Then the call ended, and he placed his phone on the counter in front of him. Then he turned on heel, running a hand through his hair before he paused, his wondrous steel colored eyes landed on me. He looked surprised at first, but not scared that I had just shown up from my assumed resting, in fact he walked over and leaned against the counter, "Stiff, what are you doing up?" he asked me, and raised an eyebrow.

"What am I doing here? And what time is it?" I redirected,

"A little past 2 am," he said, "you're not sleeping, are you," He stated more than asked, his eyes bore directly into my own, nailing me in place with throwing knives, I supposed my dark circles around my eyes were too noticeable to put concern on the down low, still I shrugged, "Who was that?"

"Max," he huffed,

"What did he want?"

"You to give your report, I told him to fuck off," he told me with a shrug,

"You did not," I sputtered, my eyes widening in disbelief. He shrugged and a coy smile wriggled onto his lips, it made me smile in turn, how his eyes were downcast and his grin gave way to parted lips and slightly shown teeth. I wondered briefly if anyone had ever seen him really smile, like this. He returned his gaze back to me, the slightest hint of warmth in his eyes but the look of the utmost seriousness on his face, "You should go back to bed," my mind was made up very quickly, so I slid off the stool and purposefully avoided his gaze. I picked up my boots slowly and turned for the front door. It took two steps until I heard him, "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded of me, his voice less harsh than it was nearly a month ago, the last time I spent a night in his bed. It seemed this was the second time he willingly let me sleep in his abode, it wasn't like he couldn't just leave me, let me figure things out on my own and let me handle my own shame. I paused in my tracks and held a smile back by sinking my teeth into my lip, "Going to bed," I told him innocently, his footsteps were quieter than I thought they would be, and soon he was behind me, heat falling from his skin in waves like a human heater.

Then his hands rose up to hold my elbows gently, and he bowed his head, whispering into my ear and giving me pleasured chills, "You're going the wrong way," he told me with a soft voice, something in the back of his throat made his voice deeper, more appealing in the way of chemistry and my body. I tried not to shiver, instead I turned around and looked up at him with tired but awake eyes, he was looking down at me with a peculiar expression. I smiled, "Is than an order, or an invitation?" His lips curled, and suddenly he leaned down, nearly closing the gap between us, his lips brushed mine like a feather to skin. I held my breath, it wasn't a kiss, but he was that close. Then quickly his arm went around my waist and his hand took my boots to the floor, I was hoisted to his shoulder like nothing. I laughed.

He spun me a few times and held my waist and my legs, I could feel the grin on his face and he stormed towards his room. Once inside he lifted me and dropped me on the bed, making me bounce and laugh even harder at him. To which then he proceeded to grab my ankle and gently pull me closer to him, I squealed louder than I ever have when his fingers skimmed and poked and prodded the only spots on me that were ticklish. My sides, my ribs, and along my thighs, and though I could tell he knew both inner and outer parts were sensitive he didn't venture anywhere he knew I'd be uncomfortable with.

I laughed so hard my cheeks and stomach were aching and sore, and my eyes dripped hot tears down the sides of my face to my ears and to the bed as I squirmed and curled and uncurled into a ball beneath him. I was breathless and begging by the time he stopped. I didn't have to look at him to know he had a self satisfied grin on his face. I smiled even though my face hurt and looked at him. Our eyes locked and I swore then that I felt something extraordinary, rare, hot, intense and incredibly pure. My lips parted to say something to him as I sat up but he sobered quickly, looking away from me and mumbling quiet words of almost apology and a shower.

My teeth captured my lip again as he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door with a pair of clothes on hand. Had I done something wrong? I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, my grey matter replaying everything that had happened. Pausing and rewinding on one specific part, he had almost kissed me. Or was that just a part of his bubble disturbing manipulation trick? But that wouldn't make sense, not when a fit of laughter followed. Had he wanted to kiss me? Would I have let him? There was nothing holding me back, aside from fear. Eric wasn't a model citizen, sure he changed around me into someone almost entirely different, but that didn't change how much of a sadist or masochist he was towards other people, and the women he had been with told stories. I gnawed on my lip harder, furrowing my brow and staring at the bedroom door, my heart racing from flashes of thoughts and six second to two second plays of what could possibly follow a kiss from Eric. I closed my eyes, there was no use in exciting myself.

* * *

I would have let him, I decided when he crawled into bed with me. My body was stripped and covered in underclothes and one of his shirts. His skin was warm, and still slightly wet, and he smelt of something spicy and dark, it made me want to face him and smell him. But that would've been weird, and he would stare at me like I'd finally lost my mind from sleep deprivation. That thought didn't keep his eyes from burning into me, however, and I knew he was eyeing my exposed shoulder. I had taken my hair out while he was showering, and it was now draped over his pillow in wavy and loosely curled bleach blonde and brown tendrils. The flower crown of clovers rested on the bedside table I faced. I wondered if he would try to play with my hair or touch my skin while I sleep, and I knew I wouldn't mind it if he did. I closed my eyes, and sleep washed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under as soft and wet lips gently pressed against my shoulder bone.

 **This chapter is slightly shorter than the last one, but it was created for the purposes of developing relationships. The next chapter will be a bit of a surprise, but still, I hope you enjoy it. I found a song that I believe represents both Eric and Tris in this story, 'Prince Fox - I Don't Wanna Love You (ft. Melody Noel)'**

 ** _Fixed some mistakes, fixed the tenses and added in a few descriptive lines. The next chapter should be up by this weekend, She Knows is in the making._**


	5. Chapter 5

Light beamed down on the bed sheets beside us, seemingly shifting the color of the fibers that mended in one fabric of black, and now a changed light fixture made such darkness produce color. The seas of violet cloth waved and ebbed over our legs, up to my lower back, covering our tangled legs. Dust motes drifted and swirled lightly through the rays of near white gold. It seemed I was always the first to wake around him. Eric still slept beneath me, his chest heaved up and down slowly, his snores soft if present at all. Watching him like that made me smile, made me grateful for the thawing I made happen in his heart, that he let me close enough. My lungs inhaled, and I turned and rested my cheek on my crossed arms, which lay on Eric's chest. My lips curled as I took in his parted lips, his removed piercings, though some were present, including the one in his lip. His head was tilted to the side and was slightly eaten by his pillow, his blonde hair was curling and messy, he looked years younger while he slept, and part of me marveled at the lack of a sneer on his face, or furrowed eyebrows of disappointment.

One of Eric's arms tightened around my lower back, and the other rested beside us. My shirt had been lifted up to my upper back, and I was in little clothing aside from it, still I smiled again when he huffed and rubbed his fingers up my spine, his index and middle finger rubbing up each vertebrae, rubbed between them and spanned across the back of my ribs once his hand reached the area. I waited, smiling sleepily at him, my eyes threatened to shut and pull me under again, his warmth seeped onto my skin and into my very heart. Patience was on my side thankfully, and Eric's lips began to curl at the corners, "Hey," I mumbled to him, in a greeting of pleasant mornings. He sighed softly and opened his eyes to look at me, the grey replaced with the prettiest blue I'd ever seen, like angelite. My own eyes widened in awe and I stared, taking in how his eyes flicked across my face.

Then he used his other hand to brush his fingers against my cheek bone, caressing back into my hairline he pushed my messy hair behind my ear to look at me better. His eyes followed the motion, and he watched as he felt up my hair, fingers rubbing through the silk, watching how it grew shiny and then dim. His other hand spreading, spanning his fingers along my ribs, his palm rested over the line of my spine, which dipped in. My lips had long betrayed me and curled into a pleased smile, "You shouldn't touch people's hair without permission first," He ceased his motions and looked at me, his eyes half open and his lips pressed together. His eyebrows were darker than his hair, and were very nice as opposed to most. He stared at me, tried to pick me apart and figure me out. His warmth seeped deep into my skin, which made me lay my head down on him. He tensed a fraction before he wrapped his arms around me, he didn't say anything, and let me fall asleep as he pet my hair and twirled the tendrils between his fingers.

He let me sleep longer than what I would have liked him to, but at the same time I wasn't regretful. If I was welcome in his personal space, in his cold abode, I would have stayed with him all through the day. We weren't together though, and that was what ate at me for the next few days. I hadn't any clue if he saw me the way I recognized I saw him, I wanted him in a way I thought I would never want another man again. I wanted to wake up to him in the mornings, wanted to feel his skin to mine, wanted to kiss him, just once. I wanted the things I thought up in my grey matter at ungodly hours of the dark sector of day. I wanted, him. The man who called me "Stiff" for the two years I'd been in Dauntless, the man who yelled and hissed at me during my initiation and almost threw knives at me himself. I wanted to be the girl he kept, rather than pushed away. I wanted to know him, and knowing was half the battle.

* * *

Dark room, the fallen closed shades expelled light from the glass and obsidian office space that belonged to Max, our main Leader of Dauntless. The carpet smelt of chemicals and his desk was toppled with papers, he sat with his fingertips pressed together in his leather chair, his eyes a furious glare and a thick frown on his dark skin. He raised hell, shouting and throwing things and hissing insults and threats at my face. I stood my ground, Johanna had been seen negotiating with the Factionless, and giving them supplies, I failed to get her to confess. It was an enormous setback, and an even bigger threat, the representative of Amity was not only accused of capital treason, but of harboring, hiding, and assisting radical revolting groups who not only sought to shut our Faction system down, but kill hundreds or thousands of people in the process. They wanted total control, and now they had the means to do so, and we didn't know how long Johanna had been doing any of this, or how prepared the Factionless now were to carry out their plans, because of me. Max would've had me for dinner if Eric hadn't saved my skin.

I was nearly denounced, but Eric suffered just as much as I did. Max had more mercy for Eric than he did for me, he never favored me like he did the more ruthless leaders, he most likely thought I couldn't hold my own, or pull more. Needless to say, Eric and I were assigned to overseeing Training, and doing paperwork. I didn't mind either of them, I was more grateful than anything, even though I loved being active or out in the field. Eric however, was the picture of rage. Not three days ago I was sleeping on him in his bed, and now he was sending me an earful of curses and phrases I knew he didn't mean. Eric was all about looking fearsome, all about being out there in the city, dealing in the way that normal soldiers would, not type on a computer or tablet all day, and he expressed in full how much he detested it. Even though I knew he didn't truly mean most of the hurtful things he'd said, some still got to me, and it made me retaliate. Doors slammed and fists clenched, glares were exchanged and tears brimmed eyes. He became stone cold again, and left me alone in my apartment to work. I hated being alone.

* * *

Two weeks later the leaders and trainees sat in the control room, arms crossed or fingers laced, narrowed eyes at the screen whenever some brave soul left Dauntless to join another faction. It was rare, and that was what upset some of the more senior leaders the most. Some were former Candor and Erudite, so they bet and took tabs and observed every name that would be called that year, and hand picked a select amount of kids they wanted to join the faction as per their traits, averages, history, etc. Some of the outward transfers were shocking, one of the leaders sons left to join Abnegation, and he threw me a dirty look, like I had been the one to take him away. Transfer day was always hard.

I stood at the alcove to the net, staring up at the bright grey sky, watching as Eric as always greeted the train hoppers. My arms were crossed along my ribs, and my hair was pulled into a high pony tail, my eyes were flicking between Eric and the dark shadow of a man I hadn't seen for nearly two months. He listened to me at the very least and had yet to experience another episode in the control room. My body tensed as the first jumper flew through the hole, letting out a delighted burst of a laugh. My eyes locked onto the bright red and yellow clothing. Amity was the first to jump.

The initiate was lanky and tall, awkward and strange but he looked a little more than humble and curious when he stood in front of me, his blue eyes wide. His hair was a copper color, and it contrasted with his bronzed skin from the sunlight. I shot an easy smile to him to keep him from freaking out before I flicked my eyes back to the next falling figure. Blue. A girl.

12 Dauntless-born and 10 transfers, it was the average number of teens who filed in year after year. It was almost the beginning of fall now, which was good, everything was moving on schedule. I kept my arms crossed and watched as Eric fell from the sky silently and slowly drew closer to the mass of teens under my authority. I tilted my head and refused to acknowledge the glaring at the back of my skull and spoke up, "Dauntless-borns, meet in the mess hall, report to Lauren while you're at it, you already know how it all goes," I watched with critical eyes as they broke off in small groups from the horde and slunk off into the dark hallway behind me. The new faces looked up to me with curious and guarded eyes, they were fresh for the picking and had already chosen who they'd look up to, who they'd fear, who their friends and enemies were without realizing this faction was a sitting 450,000 strong army of trained killers and defenders. Unaware that regardless of who they opted to declare friends or enemies with that they'd end up either saving or being saved by that very same person. The prospect made me smile, that they were so naive.

I turned half way to gesture them to follow, like sheep. We were training sheep to shave their fur and grow fangs, to pad their hooves into claws and transform their being into dogs. Eric was like that once, it only happens once you're in the heat of it. I spoke up, "Your real trainer has been called for active duty, I have been called in to co-train you all in her place,"

"What's your name?" The Erudite girl, second jumper asked me. I kept a still expression, "Tris," I told her as the roaring waters of white caught up with my ears, I opened my mouth to speak but Four beat me to it, "I am your main instructor, you will be answering to me if you have any concerns to voice. Now, here we have the Chasm, one of Dauntless's power sources and one of the most dangerous places to hang about. One daring jump off the edge will kill you, it has happened and will happen again so I suggest you stay away from it," he informed. My eyes once again caught the dim blue and white lanterns that rested embedded in the walls and on the floor of dauntless, I felt like an initiate again. Four took in a breath, shooting a look over his shoulder to make sure no sheep wandered off, "Next we have the Pit," He paused and I relaxed, still walking straight and even shouldered, "The center of life in Dauntless, you can find most shops and entertainment here, and while it looks imposing now you'll grow to love it," He explained further, while I caught the curious and ogling trainees expressions.

We came upon the doors to the dorms and there, Eric took over and explained the similar terms to training, and like a few years ago they gained a few protests, to which he shot down. Eric dismissed them and Four lead them all to the mess hall, Eric hung back with me, mumbling things to me like collected data and any character flaws he spotted in any of the transfers. He didn't bother to apologize for arguing with me a few weeks ago. I brushd it out of my concerns, it was two weeks ago, it didn't matter anymore. I stayed silent, and took in as much information that he could give me in the short walk to the mess hall until he grabbed just above my elbow. I froze and spun to look at him.

Eric looked down at me, his eyebrows twitching and his frown less obvious. I wondered if he slept well last night, he looked tired and weary. Part of me exploded with questions concerning his health and I worried for him the tiniest bit until he asked something, "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in confusion,

"Seeing Four again, has he done anything?"

"Why, are you worried?" I asked teasingly, but the stern look that fell onto his face told me he was serious and I tried my best to hold back something snappy. I wet my lips and looked away from him before turning searching his eyes. They were darker than the usual steel, and glossier. "Are you okay?" I asked him, stepping closer to him and pushing him gently to the wall with my hand to his chest. He looked down at me curiously and still rather distressed. When he didn't answer and avoided my eyes I barked his name, "Eric? What's up?"

"I need to talk to you," He mumbled to me, staring at me with those intense eyes. My shoulders fell and I stepped away from him and out of his grasp, answering him, "Okay. And yes, I'm fine," I told him turning away and holding three fingers up behind my back. I'd meet him in three hours, which would be in the training room.

* * *

I stood in the training room tinkering with the pistol I had been assigned, a glock 21. It was modified and made of air stripped stainless steel. It was a beautiful gun really. I stood at a metal table unloading its magazine and disassembling it, then cleaned it and reassembled it. I was reloading the magazine to complete the set when the double doors to the training room slammed open. The noise made me look up, expecting to see Eric I lowered the gun, but was shocked when someone grasped my neck and walked me away from the table.

Four stood before me, walking me backwards to a support steel beam that framed and held up the room. My back crashed unpleasantly against the cold metal and I shot him a murderous look as he squeezed his fingers. He shoved me harder against the metal and leaned closer to me, glaring me in the face and hissing, "So you're fucking Eric now?"

"Excuse me?" I retaliated, pushing against him and grabbing his wrist with one hand. His eyes narrowed into something fierce, and I began to think he really intended to hurt me. "You cheated on me remember?" I growled, staring him in the eyes with a promising look of pain, "Speaking of which, how's the whore?"

"Tighter than you ever were," He hissed, snarling his lip like an animal and getting closer to me, lifting me to my toes by my throat. I waited, not wanting to hurt him without a reason. He looked incredibly different now than he did two months ago, a light beard crawled over his face and his lip was split, his hair was a mess and oily. His eyes were what really got to me though, they were no longer the curious pools of mystery and adoration. Now they were consumed by bitterness and anger, all of which was directed at me. I didn't let his insult get to me and shoved away my disgust of his bluntness, I didn't want to know what absurdities he performed with a girl like her. "I'm not yours anymore Four, remember?" I told him and he growled at me, squeezing his fingers tighter and making my throat close up, beginning to cut my air path. I sputtered, digging my nails into the soft flesh of his wrist.

He grew closer and I could feel his stale breath brush my face, I crinkled my nose in disgust and tried to turn from him. Had he lost his mind? "You can't walk away from me Tris, I was your first,"

"But not the last,"

"So you did fuck him, you dirty slut," He snarled and slammed my skull to the metal. Hollow echoed through the room and I hissed and struggled against him, his grip grew tighter and suddenly I was robbed of my air. "Four!" I warned, choking and drowning nearly on nothing. He was strangling me off my feet with one hand. I kicked him when he didn't let go, and swung my forearm down against his wrist to make him release me. He stumbled and shot me a strange look before he lunged, throwing a fist, I ducked and rolled out of the way, catching whatever breath I could. I heard his bones crack when his hand hit the steel beam. I winced as he turned to me, like he hadn't just broken his hand and rushed me. I blocked and redirected his hit down, lifting my knee to his face. He wrapped his arms around me and dragged me to the floor, slamming me to the concrete. A short scream came from me when my head collided with the floor, he was on top of me, fumbling to restrain my arms, shouting that I'll be his again, that I was stupid to leave him, that I'll understand. I screamed and told him to go to hell as I slammed my head to his. Four lulled back like a sack of dough beaten too hard, and I bucked my waist up, rolling and knocking him over, I got on him now.

My hands flew, my lips held a snarl and a furious scream flew from my lips. He tried to block as my fist crashed down to his chest and his face, beating into him. My fingers and nails sought out his eyes and my other hand threw back to back hits. Get off me, is all I thought, don't touch me you sick bastard. I wasn't aware of how loud I was screaming, or that I was screaming those words over and over again. I slammed his head into the concrete beneath him a few times until I saw it a time to run. I scrambled from him and took a mad dash for the double doors. I heard him scuffle and scrape to his feet, he chased me and my fingers wrapped around the cool steel of my personal gun. I spun clicking the safety off and pushing a bullet into place, I held the sight at his head. He froze with wide eyes, rage ate at his facial expression when the shock dissolved. I widened my stance and glared down the sights, my finger hovering over the trigger, "Stay where you are, you sick fucker," He smirked at me and playfully raised his hands in surrender, "I will shoot you Four,"

"No you won't," he mumbled to me, "We have too much history,"

"History is doomed to repeat unless you learn from it," I hissed to him, adjusting my stance and squaring my shoulders. I would shoot him. I was ready to. Then the doors slammed open and someone called out, "Tris stop, don't shoot," it was Eric, and it was the first time I'd ever heard him like that. His voice was quick but deadly calm, and extremely worried. I didn't shoot, but I didn't relax either. My mind was filled with the horror that Four would have done to me if I didn't fight. His glare confirmed my vile thoughts and I held down bile. I listened to Eric's careful footsteps and picked up the murmurs from the trainees outside the doors. Several other heavier sounds echoed in my ears and I felt Eric slip the gun from my tense and shaky hands. I watched with dull eyes as Four was dragged from the room, he resisted and spit things at me.

I was sitting against the wall with a numb feeling eating at my skin and thoughts. I had really hoped things wouldn't go down this way, what had I done to make him snap? It surely wasn't the madness he was spouting. Had the woman he was with left him? Did he just finally lose his resolve when it came to coping? Why attack and take it out on me? I still loved him, even though he broke my heart and failed to surgically repair it with a dangerous set of needles and syringes. I leaned back and closed my eyes, and let the warm tears rush down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them if I wanted to. It was about time I let go and cried.

A few days later, Max told me I didn't have to train the initiate class anymore, and that Four had been sent to the fence in solitude as punishment for assault. Zeke had caught it all in the control room and called the Leadership wing. Eric was the quickest to respond and had grabbed a few dauntless he ran into on the way of charging through the complex to come and rescue me. On any other circumstance I would've laughed at the idea of Eric running like a maniac to save someone's life, let alone mine. And the image of him forcing people aside and knocking them to the ground was a surreal one. Instead I grew sober and graciously took in the announcement of my entitlement of Leadership in a week. My tattoos were also assigned, and I was ordered to get them done before next week. Max shot me a look of pity as I left the office, I still had his hand on my throat in a cruel dark bruise of purple. My body felt broken and my head had taken too many hits for my liking. Will was the one to patch me up in the hospital, telling me to get plenty of rest and to stay off my feet, to avoid doing anything strenuous for a few days and to have someone nearby to watch my condition. He expressed his concerns of the risk of me slipping into a coma. I took his advice and rested.

* * *

Now I was in my apartment, laying in my lonely bed with plenty of pillows beneath my pressured skull. I felt like I was dying, and my brain was trying to escape through my bones this wrecked body. I drifted in and out of consciousness and slept more than I had in a year in two days. My lungs refused sometimes to cooperate with me and blocked out airflow, and my body felt as if it were lead. Sometimes in my drifting I could hear Eric moving about in my apartment, doing dishes or watching TV. Once I heard him on the phone speaking with someone urgently, and the want to soothe his nerves washed into my being, not that I could do much about it. Sometimes I felt his hand check my temperature or adjust my sheets, other times he would linger in my room. I could feel him watching and worrying for me. His ever present aura set something off in me and I strove to get better, I was tired of catching bleary images of him frowning at me, looking so defeated. That wasn't the Eric I knew.

It was somewhere around one at night that I had woken myself to earth shattering pain and hot tears. I had sat there awake staring at my ceiling wondering why this had happened to me. I couldn't come up with an answer, so instead of sitting there feeling sorry for myself I got up, very gingerly and avoided tilting my head too much. My legs were weak when I pushed myself to a slow stand, and my feet felt tender on my bedroom bought carpet. I dared to venture to the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar without looking at myself in a mirror. Not that I wanted to see how awful I looked. My fingers pushed open my door a crack more, and my tired eyes landed on a sleeping Eric.

He lay on his back on the couch, his arm slung over his eyes and his lips pressed together. His ankles were crossed and he had a small black blanket draped over his legs. I was hurt and comforted by the sight, that he was treating himself so poorly. He could have gone home. It wasn't like my life was in jeopardy any longer. I stalked to the kitchen, glaring through the darkness and what little light the TV produced with flashing pictures. He was watching some old show, or movie. I didn't know where it came from but I was happy he tried to entertain himself. I made myself a glass of water and very slowly sipped on it, tilting my head back hurt, and felt like some bullet was struggling to push its way through the back of my skull. I set the cup down and walked back to the couch, looking at Eric as I sat down next to his head. Carefully I lifted his head after I got comfortable, and placed it in my lap. I fell asleep faster than usual right next to him.

Eric this time, woke before me, as he was making some herbal tea for me and I woke to his gentle nudging. It was refreshing to see his face clearly after fading in and out of sleep state for so long, it made me feel less lonely. The tea smelt of flowers and honey, and I shot him a questioning look as I sipped it. The flavors rushed my tongue, the curral in the steamy liquid aleing my sore and dry throat. I gave him a slight smile, to wash away the pain and worry on his face. He grinned at me when I drank half, drinking any more would make me tilt my head too much. Still even after that he was very mindful of me and my needs, and whenever I tried to get up he asked what I wanted, placing his hand on my leg to still me. After the first few hours of him doing everything for me I began to grow guilty, and downright refused to tell him what I was doing in the afternoon. Eventually he gave up and waited for my instruction if I did need help.

It was around 7 when I grew sleepy again, and I had the nerve to call the day of awakeness a win. It was small, and while I was proud of myself I was also disappointed. Worried that Eric would never view me as the strong, open minded, independent leader that this faction needed. Upset also with myself that something so foolish had set me back so far, that I threw myself into the mess in the first place. Eric never gave me the look of boredom or disappointment though, and I secretly wondered if he knew what I was thinking.

The next morning, after sleeping on the couch with Eric again, I showered, with him outside the door for anything. It felt good to wash myself of the stress and memories and filth that had accumulated in all ways possible on me. I got to wash my hair, even though the back of my head was still tender. When I was all dressed, which I did slowly mind you, Eric explained that I was in a high fever state, due to my brain pressing against my bones, being squeezed. It was bruised he told me, and it would be for the rest of my life because of how hard I was hit, and how many times it happened. He told me a few symptoms I would experience like vertigo and nausea, dizziness and sometimes had the risk of blacking out. Each word he told me made me feel useless, like a child who was forbidden from doing anything, how was I to be effective in leadership if I had so much wrong with me?

* * *

Eric held my hand as we walked to the mess hall, and I had no idea why. Part of me reasoned it was to make sure I didn't randomly collapse, but another said screw it and jumped with glee. Either way, when he squeezed my hand gently I squeezed back, to tell him I was there. We got a few stares when we ate together, which I expected but didn't appreciate. The transfers moved over to us and checked up on me, I was very grateful that they were alright from the experience, and was more than happy to let the quiet but smiling amity boy sit next to me. His name was Trey, I learned after exchanging a few words with him. He wanted to be a leader or ambassador. I told him that he had to work for it.

* * *

Eric let go of my hand once Tori was setting the leadership tattoos around my shoulder and upper arm. They were lines, thin and thick like bands wrapping around and curving to my body down to the top of my hand. I asked her why she didn't do my fingers, she told me lines on each of your finger save for your ring finger signified marriage. I blushed, because Eric's face was the image that associated with marriage and that was shameful of me. I let her finish my left arm and apply a cooling salve, numbing the sting of the fresh ink. Eric shot me a look and observed me up and down before taking my hand again. We left for his apartment to get me some rest, and for him to get some work done now that he wasn't fawning over me the whole time.

 **One more chapter after this one c: and maybe a bonus. I'm considering it. Tell me what you think though, I had some quarrels about writing it this way with Four and everything.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Last Chapter!**

 **Warning: Suggestive sexual themes towards the end.**

Christina was the one to call me down from my mind, brushing soft follicles and straws against my face, like a puffy paint brush and she glided it down along my cheeks, her cold soft fingers holding me firmly by the jaw. Even though my eyes were closed, her concentrated expression was burned into my skull, the one she often wore during our initiation. Her eyebrows knitted perfectly together, her lips in a harsh frown, the left corner twitching slightly, narrowed eyes and a line between her brows. If I hadn't known better, I'd have assumed she was very upset with me, but the gentleness she displayed as she dragged a black pencil over my eyelid told me she had any other intention than hurting me. After all, tonight was the leadership entitlement, the whole of Dauntless would know in a few hours that I was the newest leader, that I had passed all the tests, my rank would be revealed, I would be appointed up and would require respect, I would be a leggate of sorts of any team assigned to me in an ordinary patrol. Though, Dauntless was hardly ever ordinary.

Christina huffed impatiently at me, and I could almost feel her eyes roll, her nails left my chin and she pulled away from me, fabric crinkling. I dared to open my eyes as she sighed softly at me, as if I couldn't be helped. Her bubbly chuckle filled my ears and she told me to stop moving, I told her that people had never poked and prodded at my face like she had before. She laughed it off and sharpened her tools of her trade. Eyes were always a touchy subject for me, mine were very special to me, they were my rock, they told me everything, I needed them, which was why I flinched every time she pressed the cold tip of the dark pencil to my eye lid.

Time seemed to stretch on forever until Christina gently grasped my hands and told me she was done in that preppy tone of hers, I loved her, I really did, but sometimes I wanted to strangle her. How could she be happy standing up for hours and poking and drawing on my face? I tried not to cringe as she pulled out bottles of chemical smelling polish. It was a peach flesh color, and had a shine to it. Even though I pulled away from her, if Christina was known for anything it was her iron grip, which she held around my wrist, and to which she pulled back over into a chair. I huffed my displeasure, which I swore only encouraged her.

In 40 minutes or so, after my hand cramping and me accidentally messing up the newest nail many times, Christina had managed to polish, trim, sharpen, protect and paint my nails a soft peach nude color, my thumbs in particular had a french tip, whatever that meant, and had beautiful and cute little grey flowers on the corners toward my index finger. She had drawn them with much care with a nail polish grey pen, and had stuck on a tiny white rhinestone in the middle.

Then was the time for dresses and hair, she had very carefully helped me adorn my dress without letting me look in the mirror. I hadn't a clue what I looked like, and I think she wanted it that way. The flush of wonderment on her face told me enough, however, and I knew that I had (without her help) picked out a fine black dress that fell down just past my mid thigh, it was virtually strapless and made of one of the softest fabrics I'd ever worn. There was one sleeve, made entirely of lace that snaked down my left arm, the design was black roses. I knew Eric might like it, and I knew that it covered enough to keep me from feeling exposed. Though I knew the dress showed my ravens nicely, something I had caught the gaze of eric many times, he never asked about them, that was alright with me, he didn't need to be reminded how much of a stiff I was. The dress also exposed my leadership tattoos, which were perfectly crafted to weave down my arm from my shoulder, all to my wrist. I would wear them with pride, I earned them, I took bullets and lead reforms for them. I was Dauntless, and I was going to be a Leader with a faction wide celebration in my name.

Christina seemed to be very good at hiding her thoughts from me, though she bit her lip at me and grinned, eyebrows lifting. I knew she wanted to say something almost vulgar and teasing to me like the type of girl she was, but she shoved me instead into the bathroom to do my hair. When I caught my reflection I almost didn't recognize myself, similar to the reaction I had when she first painted my face for my ex boyfriend. "I'm going for striking this time," She said to me, and I couldn't help but reach to lightly touch my face. My eyes were smoky grey and black, some white and nude sparkles flashed as well under the dark fine black line on the edge of my eyelid, boldening my already dark eyelashes. I was beautiful, and very striking. Christina pulled me from my awe struck state with a hissing curling iron, to which I turned down, hands flailing out and my face holding a parted lips and wide eyes. I was never letting a hot piece of metal near my head or face again, not after she burned me, well I flinched.

An hour later she was showered, dressed in a cherry red cocktail dress, she had to tell me what it was called, it was a single strap that wrapped around the back of her neck, and was virtually backless, which fell down just above her tailbone. A red frilly sash framed her bosom and I couldn't describe her as anything other than beautiful, but what I didn't understand was how she managed to get ready within an hour and spent three on me.

In shoes I couldn't walk in, backed by my two best friends Will and Christina, I arrived in the observation deck above the Pit around 9 at night. The obsidian walls seemed to shimmer with the rising and drifting mist from the chasm, the winter was drawing closer, a festive time, and even more beautiful and dangerous in Dauntless than what I would have ever thought. Icicles hung from the archways, cold water droplets tinging into well placed drains on the walkways, and sometimes steam rose from the chasm. Dauntless lights glowed and decorations that were strung up seemed to rival even Amity's celebrations. But that was during the winter months, we were barely seeing the first stretches of fall, but the weather still grew cold.

Much to my surprise, a certain leader stood with his arms crossed and a dark look on his face at the door beside the balcony entrance, he looked just short of livid. His hair was nicely done, gelled, freshly cut. His piercings glinted in the dim light from a few meters away from him. I could tell that he left a few of his piercings in his bathroom, because it was only his ears, the corner of his eyebrow, and his lip was was pierced. Still, he looked very, good. And the sight of him made me smile and push down a wave of heat.

Christina skillfully walked in front of me, her black heels clicking, though they were muffled from the music that could be heard on the other side of the door. I hung back, subtly pushing Will ahead of me, catching Eric's eye as the door shut. All cool and slick, brooding and steamy the way he was, Eric stalked over to me, head tilted, the formation of a ghost of a smile on his lips. He looked me up and down, wetting his lips. He came to a halt in front of me, a smirk sliding over his face, his hand reaching up, fingers brushing against my skin like a feather tip, nails leaving a trail of a ticklish sensation up my neck to my jaw, where he let his palm rest. His thumb uncharacteristically gliding against my cheek bone.

I shot him a curious look, as while he'd never intentionally hurt me physically outside of training, the kind of behavior he displayed was strange to say the least. To my gaze Eric tilted his head, and he said something to me I never would have expected to come out of his lips in the two and a half years I'd known him, "You look beautiful, as always,"

"Have you been drinking?" I asked him, squinting and turning my head slightly, searching for any glowing or blushing signs he held when he was very under the influence. He stepped closer to me, again where it would be easy for him to lean down and capture my lips, or bite me like a dog. Eric whispered to me in the low voice he used in his apartment, where he dragged me to his bed and proceeded to take my breath away, which again his words did to me, "No, I havn't been, the bars aren't open until the woman of the hour shows up,"

"So flattering, you trying for something?" I teased him, grinning ear to ear, he looked away from me before looking at me again. Then his hands were on my waist and I was against the wall, trapped in a warm and soothing chill of a bubble between him. His hands grasped my neck and jaw, his thumbs resting beside my ears, his fingers threading into my hair, I'd never before seen a look so intense on his face directed at me. His breath had fluttered against my face and smelt of mint, and his cologne was spicy and musky and complemented his personal smell nicely. He leaned down towards me, fingertips digging gently into my skull, "I want to kiss you," he said to me, brushing his lips against mine when he spoke.

Feelings I couldn't explain at the time welled up in me, ones that threatened to pour salt and acid in my eyes, ones that made me bite my lip like a teenager, ones that ignited into bright burning flames that had once before been mellow. Eric was one to declare what he wanted, was the type to take it if he didn't say he wanted it, which was why he caught me off guard, because it seemed as though he was asking for my permission. I took the time to calm myself from a pounding rock and roll drumming heart in my chest, "How many?" I teased,

"Just one," He said,

" _One_ kiss," I said to him, blinking at him slowly, "That's all you want?" My fingers slowly hooked into his beltline, tugging him toward me by his pants. His warmth drove me crazy, and his nearing proximity made my breath halt in my throat, "Maybe," He said to me, before his palms pressed firmly to my skin, and his nose brushed mine, his lips capturing and crushing mine. A sound escaped my lungs as he slowly pressed his body to mine. My cold fingers teasing the skin near his abdomen, pulling him closer, he drew back, and gave me this unsure but watchful look. His steely eyes filled with so many questions and so many emotions, he was insecure in his choice to kiss me. The Eric, the ruthless, assholish, moody, alcoholic, murderous and cruel Eric was insecure about kissing a girl. Kissing me. I smiled, jutted my chin up, and kissed him much harder, I must have surprised him, because his hands gripped at my hair tighter and he pressed my body firmly to the wall.

He tilted his head, engaging in me in a heated kiss, one of his hands snaking down my dress, down my arm, his lips distracted me from his fingers gingerly hooked under my dress, traced around my leg, made me shiver. He mumbled to me how much he liked the dress before he claimed my lips and mouth in the way I imagined he would, the cold lip piercing making me surrender to him. It was when his hands swept down to my upper thighs, and squeezed did I make any other noises, he lifted me, using his waist to pin me to the wall, my legs crossing at the ankles around him, hands sliding up and under his shirt, nails scraping and grazing over a tight stomach, up to his chest. He hissed at me through his teeth, biting at my lip. Then his tongue met mine, and they mingled, his soft huffs of hair and his hands sent jolts of electricity down to pool like lava in my lower belly. I pulled from him, cupping his face and grinning, panting at him and nearly laughing, "One kiss you said?"

"Maybe," he told me, and then he kissed me again. We stayed outside of the observation deck for a while, my mind unable to keep track of time due to the lack of oxygen, and the addictive taste of Eric's mouth on mine. It was when he shifted and showed me just how much of an effect I gave him did he stop kissing me, and also gave me the most adorable blush I had ever seen on a man. I gave him a quick kiss after he set me down, and told him he'd be okay before I lead him into the dark room.

Max for the very first time looked at me proudly, a smug expression on his face. He shook my hand, his grasp firm and mine equally so, but he held my forearm in such a way that exclaimed dominance, I knew then that he sought to take credit for my success, even though his demeanor toward me from the beginning had never been friendly, he had very little faith in me from the start. I knew that changes would have to be made when it came to leadership choices, especially from a biased point of view like his. Still, despite his false smile and his side cast looks, I reveled in the glee his announcement gave me, let myself fall into pride as the whole of Dauntless and its initiates cheered, shouted, clapped and screamed my name, cried out in excitement for me. It was invigorating, and the pumped music and the gleeful whoops certainly added to the spree of excitement in me. What lead me to take Eric to a dancefloor of all places, I didn't know.

His hands were on me, fingers dug deep into my skin enough to leave bruises, he was blatantly uncomfortable, the look on his face and the annoyance in his eyes had explained that enough to me. It was also the glares he gave any man who came close enough to touch me, and the snarl on his lips that told me he wanted more out of me than just to kiss me. Either way, the music was loud, and his lips were by my ear, his arms were either around me or protecting me. We stayed in the dark lights, kissing, letting the flashes of green, orange, blue, red and purple paint our skin and clothes, let our tongues mingle, let our bodies move against one another. The music was too loud to talk over. And that was okay.

Christina was too out of it and lost in the moment when Eric decided to pull me away from the celebration, his fingers locked around my wrist, the look in his eye was sure. Though any type of gaze he threw at me was anything but violent, I was unsure of him at first, but then I was at his apartment, on his couch, talking to him like it was nothing, his hands always on me. Then he said something that made me reconsider my relationship with him, "One kiss from you isn't enough,"

"You had more than one," I replied, pulling my bare and sore feet up on the couch to tuck under me. His hand on mine tightened, his fingers squeezing, his lips pursed and he glared at the wall, words caught in his throat. I'd never before seen Eric so caught up, so careful with his word choice, "I made up my mind," He said finally, loudly, "You're moving in with me,"

"What?" I laughed, "Eric, you can't be serious,"

"I've never been more serious of anything in my life," He said, looking directly at me, his gaze boring hot into my skin. I didn't know how, but suddenly his lips were on mine, or maybe it was the other way around, but his hands were holding the apex of where my thigh met my behind and his fingers squeezed. My own hands were ruining his hair, nails scraping along his scalp, legs straddling his. At some point his hands slid up under my dress, up my lower back. My zipper was undone, and my clothes were falling off, his shirt was somewhere on the floor.

My nails dug into his shoulders, scraped down his back and left bright red lines along his muscles. Then his belt was undone, and my back was hitting the soft mattress of his bed, his hands burned into my skin, his lips slow moving, gentle. He was giving me time to say no, he was waiting for me to reject him. I replied in full that I wanted every bit of what he wanted to give, arching my chest and back as his lips traveled south on my skin, his hips pressed and softly rubbing against mine, creating delicious friction.

His fingers drew patterns to my skin as he removed my only under garment, and he didn't shift his eyes from mine until he touched me, making my eyes roll back and my head tilt far into the pillow. His name was a quick and soft gasp drawn from my lips when he pushed into me for the first time, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, his motions painstakingly slow, my hips bucking urged him on. The low sound I drew from him made me smile, my hands pulling on his hair, my lips seeking his and instead landed along his jaw to his ear. and the low curses and pleasured strings of words that fell from his lips regarding how I felt also boosted my courage.

I'd had sex before, but never like what he had given to me, his fingers locked with mine, his lips kissing everywhere he could whilst his hips ground and rubbed and moved rhythmically against mine, I wanted to dig my nails into him for the slow pace, it wasn't enough, I wanted the vigor the jerky manner he had, the violence, but at the same time, everything about what we did together was all that I ever needed. His groans and his soft huffs against my skin or lips drove me up to a new high when he pressed against all the right places. I'd admit he took me places I never thought possible with Tobias, places my ex never would have been able to achieve. It was when he brought me to a climax that had me trembling, gasping and moaning louder than ever did I tell him I loved him. Right after he tumbled over the edge for me, groaning my name, bucking hard into me and then stilling, breathing that he loved me too, that he always had.

He didn't say anything else to me, only said those three words and my name, told me over and over again as I claimed him afterwards in my own way, let him grip onto me leaving bruises as I switched up our style. His muffled grunts came to be eaten by my lips, my hands in his hair and cupping his face as we rocked, my body rising and falling on his, rubbing sweat sheened skin on skin together, bodies pressed firmly, sticking and melding together. His hands hand guided me, his hips tensed and urged me to go faster, something I found amusing. His sculpted body tensing and relaxing, his back straightening as he put his arms around me, holding me as again, I reached the pinnacle of bliss around him, moaning out his name, panting it and gasping as pleasure rocked through me. Eric milked me but continuing to guide me down on him, his hips meeting mine. Then after a minute or so he let out a low satisfied groan and buried his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hot pants making me shiver and tingle as he held me tighter.

It was the next morning, or afternoon that we woke up together, his thumb traced up along my tattoos, my leadership tattoos, he counted them, lips moving without sound to follow it, his eyes half lidded as he studied me in the way former Erudite do. My eyes grabbed his attention that morning, and I told him that I'd stay with him, that I was his.

It was found only much later in my life that he had loved me from the start, been infatuated with the very idea of me, wanted me enough that it killed him to see me with a man who spat lies through straight teeth. I had no idea of his affections, I had assumed he disliked me, given the foul looks and the sneer, the orders that were just that I never would have guessed he wanted me in a way I had no experience in. I never would have assumed that he wanted to stay with me forever, as his alone. Eric married me a year later, and it was a few months after that did I find out that I could give him more than what he could have ever hoped for.

"Mommy!" A little voice screamed, squeals and giggles followed after the voice and I grinned, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply. I was never going to get these dishes done, not with Eric chasing our child through our house. Our little boy screamed again, and he laughed loudly, a toothy open mouthed grin spreading over his face as his feet slapped against the tile to the kitchen. He ran into me, all of his 43 pounds and 4 years, it was one of the only things he could say. One of three anyway. His tiny arms encircled my knees and his tiny hands gripped at my jeans. I laughed and dried my hands, listening for my husband, who lumbered into the living room, spotting our son in the corner of his eye but pretending to look for him anyway.

Our baby wriggled his way behind me as I turned to look at Eric, who made obvious gestures of searching, clicking his tongue when he couldn't find any traces. "Caine, where are you? Come out bud, so I can tickle you!" Caine giggled from behind me, peeking his head out off balance. Then Eric made a big show of spotting him, then rushing after our speedy boy and scooping him up, lifting the squealing and giggling monster into the air and pulling him to his arms. A gleeful expression on his face. Eric had never been happier, never been so in love with someone, aside from me of course. He never thought he'd have me though, to hold and to console, never would have ever hoped for a child he created, fearful of the idea. He fell in love with Caine the moment I told him I was pregnant, and I knew things would be alright.

Caine giggled and hugged his father, pressing his soft puffy cheeks and mop of curly blonde hair against Eric's shoulder. I smiled and sighed, taking a few steps toward and approaching Eric, who had a loving gaze locked on me. He stopped in front of me, grasping my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the lines that ran over my left handed fingers, all but my ring finger. His gruff voice mumbling to me, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too," I told him, smiling as he looked at me like I was his world. Then he leaned in and kissed me, a soft kiss that I loved but left me wanting more. My own hand moved to thread through and attempt to comb my sons hair, failing and making him giggle at me. I placed a long kiss on his forehead and fought back the happy tears that brimmed my eyes, those two boys were my everything. Always would be. All thanks to one kiss.

 **Last chapter, oh it's been so fun. I loved this story, and the love I've received from this line made me smile so much. I'm glad I could string together a happy ending though it may seem abrupt. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
